


Hot Potato

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Crowe takes on the challenge of besting the glaive's greatest nemesis.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/156237489372/23-for-aranea-crowe) for #23 in [this prompt post.](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/156180067603/send-me-two-characters-or-more-and-a-prompt-and)

“So much for not getting involved,” Crowe muttered, before conjuring up a spell and hurtling it through the trees.

Highwind heard the crackling flames a second before they were upon her, mounting her lance and leaping clear, up into the safety of the branches above. Crowe hurried to Nyx, sliding through the dirt to check him for any mortal injuries. Her concern was quickly assuaged.

“I _had_ that,” he groaned, rolling onto his side, wet leaves and soil plastered to his back.

“Oh yeah, really had that one in the bag,” she scoffed, looking up into the trees where Aranea had fled from stepping all over Nyx. “Fall back, secure the package, I’ll take care of this.”

“Good luck,” he grunted, giving her a weak thumbs up.

Nyx had been trying to cage this cat for months, dozens of failed envoys and ambushed patrols resulting in him battered and bruised in the infirmary and Crowe shaking her head in exasperation every time he woke up vowing that “next time, for sure” he’d get her. One day, it wasn’t going to be innocuous bruises that he came back with if he kept this up. So, as Crowe got to her feet and swept the canopy of leaves above for a sign of her, the glaive resolved to take up the mantle herself. He’d never forgive her for it if she succeeded, but if it ended up saving his life, he could fuck right off.

Crowe spotted her retreating, high in the ancient limbs above, a sharp shadow in the overcast gloom. Crowe bolted after her, following the trail from the ground below, keeping one eye on her path and the other on the trees. She didn’t know much about Aranea Highwind, just that she had the whole glaive pissing themselves like babies and Nyx on a borderline suicidal life mission to take her down. If she was strong enough to rattle her friend – who was smarter than she’d ever let him know to his face – then Crowe knew that caution would be her best friend in this… should she ever catch up to the woman.

She was fast, leaping sure-footed from bough to branch as effortlessly as if it were even ground. Crowe had to warp a few times just to stay underneath her. Eventually, Aranea ran out of trees, descending into a cleared space at the edge of the woods like an avenging angel, smote down from the very heavens.

Crowe pumped her legs faster and drew fire to her fingertips. She cast the spell at Aranea while her back was turned. The mercenary snapped her lance up and climbed it just enough to avoid getting burnt and for the fire to sail past her. When she landed back on the ground, Crowe hurtled into her and they both went rolling down the steep incline that dropped off from the forest.

It was a long, hard fall, Crowe bouncing over the grass and trying to curl her limbs as close to herself as she could to avoid breaking them. The world was a spinning mess of sky then ground then sky again, a hectic tangle of black armor, loud cursing, and lots of bruises. When Crowe finally landed on flat ground, it was with a low hiss of breath she’d barely managed to hold onto during her descent. It felt like a bucket of rocks had just been pelted at her.

She paused for only a moment to catch her breath and evaluate the state of her body. Nothing broken. Good. She felt her head for any bumps or blood. Couldn’t find any. Gods willing, there was nothing that she couldn’t feel for herself inside of it. Through the disorientation, she heard Aranea growling and cursing off to the side like a wounded animal. Crowe dragged herself to her hands and knees, gritting her teeth and searching for her.

The woman was hastily trying to get to her feet, but kept falling back down, unable to support her left leg beneath her. Less lucky in the broken bone department. Perhaps not as honorable of a victory as Nyx might have tried to get, but it was good enough for Crowe. Aranea glared across at her, the both of them struggling to get to their feet, and that’s when Crowe saw it. The lance. Out of Aranea’s hands, an even distance between them. Aranea’s glare narrowed, seeing the intention in Crowe’s eyes and not hesitating to scramble forward to try and reach it before she did.

With a broken leg, Crowe was finally faster than her though. She swiped up the lance and hurried to her feet, wielding Aranea’s own weapon against her. The mercenary roared in frustration, clamoring to her feet, favoring her right leg.

“Cheater,” she hissed.

“Takes one to know one.”

Aranea laughed, short and harsh. “Oh, I like you.”

“That’ll change real quickly,” Crowe warned, pointing the tip of the lance at her.

Aranea smiled, hands flexing in and out of fists at her side, glancing between her lance and the woman wielding it. “You’re a lot cleverer than your handsome friend back there.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, otherwise flattery’s not gonna get you anywhere.”

Aranea chuckled, something oddly genuine about it. Crowe thrust the lance at her, aiming to intimidate instead of amuse. Aranea flinched back, but Crowe didn’t think it was because she was afraid. If anything, it looked like she was mocking her.

“Keep shovin’ that thing in my face all you want, honey. The lance isn’t the weapon.”

All of a sudden, her hands were wrapped around the shaft of the spear, pulling herself along its side and up to Crowe, her good leg sweeping under her feet and sending her tumbling to the ground. Crowe swore and tried to get back to her feet as fast as she could, but Aranea stamped a foot next to her head and leaned over her, supporting herself on her lance.

“Don’t touch my things,” she warned, petulantly.

“Back atcha.”

Aranea tilted her head to the side, considering. “Alright,” she said, slowly. “I’ll give tall, dark, and charmless a break if you volunteer to tap in.”

“Is that even a challenge? Deal.”

Aranea smirked, the banners of her armor blowing in the airship exhaust as one crept over the treeline overhead. “Took ‘em long enough,” Aranea mumbled, pulling herself to her feet, swearing under her breath as her leg screamed with pain. “I’m gonna make you pay for this, you know.”

“Good luck trying,” Crowe bit back, crawling back onto her feet, keen to not let her get away.

Aranea pushed the blunt end of her spear into her chest, casually pinning her back to the ground with a disgruntled, “Oof!”

“See you at the next one then,” Aranea promised, waving down the airship and grappling onto her lance to make the jump, dreading what that was going to do to her leg. “Give Undercut my regards.”

She pushed off of the ground, cursed loudly, and vanished into the bowels of the crimson airship overhead. Crowe laid back on the grass and watched it go, dreading what that meant for the rest of her party back in the woods. Even if they’d lost the package – again – this time, Crowe thought she could chalk this up to a victory. She’d accomplished the unthinkable, after all. She’d, quite literally, broken Aranea Highwind.


End file.
